


Finding Sunshine

by Mafiro (Mab_Browne)



Category: Firefly
Genre: Canon Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-13
Updated: 2009-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-02 15:10:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mab_Browne/pseuds/Mafiro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaylee says a little about herself and her friendship with Inara.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally written under an abandoned pen-name, Mafiro.

The prettiest thing I ever saw, before the captain set me to looking after my girl, was a doll that Miz McPherson had. It was an heirloom doll, you mind, not the rag dolls that the little girls cuddle, or the plastic dolls that some folk buy out of central worlds when they lay hands on a little cash. First time I saw Inara she put me in mind of that doll. Course, the doll had sunshiny golden hair and a frilly, pouffy dress, and Inara was all dark and sleek, but still. She was like that doll because she was right pretty and perfect, and it made my heart warm just to see something like her.

I didn't expect that she'd have much to do with the crew, but a companion gets lonely out in the black like any other body. She joined us in the dining room, and Jayne was his usual self.

"You keep staring at the lady and she'll think you're sly for her." Like he wasn't staring 'til his own eyes were like to fall out.

I felt a fool to be honest, but that didn't mean that I shouldn't be friendly. "I'm sorry, but you don't often see someone so pretty out here."

She smiled, a good smile and not the mean sort, and said thank you. She wasn't laughing none, and emboldened, I paid her a compliment on the bracelet she wore. She took it off and passed it to me, saying, "The stones are topazes."

Handling something like that was pure treasure in itself. I held it up and Jayne was staring because it was money, I guess. I was looking at the pattern and the way the gold and the stones swirled together.

"That's real cunningly made," I said, and it was. I'd not thought of jewellery that way before, something that had to be put together right like an engine to be more than just the glitter. I handed it back to her,

"It is a fine piece, and I'm fond of it. A friend made it for me."

"Guess that's why such a successful business-woman would deck herself with lowly semi-precious stones." The captain was all prickles and sparks around her from the beginning, and that ain't changed.

"There's art in all things, including restraint," she went back, smooth as silk. I was glad that she didn't let his bark bother her, and I expect she could see that in my face.

And that was how it started, until it was 'hey you' and 'hey you' back when we met after she'd gone out on business. It's fun sitting with Inara. Zoe's a good woman, and a trustworthy one, but she's not so eager for the girl things in life, and I do take pleasure in them. There's not much of luxury out on the rim, and even manufactured fabric costs. As for natural fabrics - well! 'Less you live somewhere farming sheep, and I've never seen much that wasn't practical made of wool. But Inara and I, we sit together and she shows me her belongings, new and old, and maybe my hands are rough but I handle those beautiful things like a tender baby. Sometimes she brushes my hair for me, and her hands are as gentle and sure as my grandma's. Still miss that old lady, sometimes.

Inara even has real silk, and that was an eye-opener. Sure, there's insects on the new worlds, spiders and such, but mostly the ecology's sparser than Ma's pantry after my aunt and her boys visit. And I know that silk worms aren't spiders, but there's romance in imagining wearing spider web for all that. We drink tea, and once she gave me more than half a box of candied fruits that a client gifted her. There were raisins and citrus peel and cherries - and ginger! The box was a delight on its own, printed over with roses and flowers that I don't know the names of half.

We tell each other stories, and maybe it's not one of the more likely friendships to come down the pike, but we suit. My Ma used to say that sometimes we have to make our own sunshine, and I don't plan on stopping being grateful for the good people that I find. It's a big old black hanging out there between the lights.


End file.
